


The Day Is Almost Done

by ireneadlered



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-19
Updated: 2012-11-19
Packaged: 2017-11-19 01:50:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ireneadlered/pseuds/ireneadlered
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Jim faked his death at the rooftop of St Barth's, he and Sebastian Moran head to Finland to open their own cupcake shop Dedicated to my wonderful people at FSU. love you guys<3 <br/>This is a crackfic, purely out of the fun of it. Mainly because there actually is a cafe called Mormor Cupcakes in Helsinki. And it just snowballed from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Day Is Almost Done

Living with a criminal master mind had it's ups and downs. Sebastian had learned to avoid certain things like staying away from Jim's way when he was in a prissy mood. Or leaving the empty bottle of milk in the fridge. Sometimes though, living with a criminal master mind like Jim had it's perks. For instance, Sebastian's natural need to shoot people and Jim's natural need to manipulate people made sure that they could work together and they would never grow bored of each other. Someone needed to look after Jim after all. God knows what that crazy twat came up in his tiny little head. And most of the time other people were too scared of Jim. Luckily, Sebastian knew better. He wasn't really that scary. He was a prick who loved nice suits. 

Normal people liked to relax after a days work, but oh no, not here. Relaxing was never an option, at least not for Jim. Sebastian would often find booby traps hid around the flat. He would always have to be on his toes when it came to Jim. 

He was sitting in their pristine, dark living room, his muscles still aching from an job earlier today and actually surfing through the channels. Jim had insisted that they'd get the most expensive, biggest channel package there was even if no one exactly watched tv. If they did end up on the couch after coming back from the South America after assasinating someone, at least that little psychopath had his soaps. Jim wanted to watch the most crappiest soap operas England could produce. He might be the most cruelest bastard on this Earth, but he loved to rot his brain with soap operas. Sebastian was still slightly baffled by this fact. But most of the time their excess time was spend in the bedroom. No, he wasn't complaining about that.

He started to feel the sudden feeling of normality coming back to his bones and wanted to turn off the tv when the felt a familiar vibrate in his jeans pocket. Long fingers dug the expensive phone ( that already had scratches and dents; Sebastian was one of those people who didn't take good care of their phones ) - a gift from Jim. He wanted to make sure that Sebastian was always a phone call away - from his pocket and squinted when the bright light hit his eyes. A text. From Jim.

Sebastian rolled his eyes.

_I'm in pain. Come heal me, colonel. - JM_

He decided to ignore it. Attention whore.

Not even 5 minutes passed when another text made his phone do a little dance next to him on the couch.

_Can't you read? Or did you go blind during the job? -JM_

A minute and half.

_Alright, I'm sorry. Now will you please come here? - JM_

_You're an awful person. - JM_

_No, take that back. You're a dreadful person. I won't make you pancakes anymore. - JM_

_Fine. I'll make you those pancakes, but no whipped cream. - JM_

This time, Seb let out an annoyed huff. Not that he wanted whipped cream anyway.

" For the love of god, Boss. Get off from your arse and get out here!" He yelled. " Prat."

There was a moment of silence.

" I can't! I'm hurt!" Jim's whine came out from the bedroom.

Sebastian didn't know was he just being awfully dramatic or was he really hurt. If he was hurt and Sebastian ignored him, he would pay it with his life, but if he was being overly dramatic again and Seb ignored him..Well, he would pay it with his life too. Frustrated that Jim had won again, Seb lifted his body from the comfortable couch and sauntered towards the bedroom. The only light that lit the room was the bright lights of London from the big windows and Sebastian could barely make out the lump on the bed. " What is it?" Sebastian asked feeling like a mother.

The big lump moved a little. " Come under the blankets." He demanded. " I have a headache."

" A headache?"

" Yes. Now get in here."

" Does this mean you killed someone today?"

" Don't be ridiculous Seb, I kill people every day." This time he lifted his head to see Sebastian at the doorway. " I'll let you bomb a Crocs factory if you come here now?"

There was no way Seb could refuse that.

That evening had to be the last evening Sebastian Moran felt like an actual normal human being. Jim and his obsession with Sherlock Holmes( even that name made Sebastian want to choke a kitten. That prat was infuriating and took almost all of Jim's attention. That's why he wasn't allowed to mention Sherlock's name during sex) had gone off the wall. And the minute Sebastian wasn't watching, Jim had successfully broken into the Tower of London. It was getting out of hand. But what really pissed Sebastian off was that Jim hadn't even told him his plans. Usually he wouldn't stop talking about his great plans how to torture someone to death or something like that and Sebastian would just listen, completely content as a cucumber. This time his little psychopath had chosen Sherlock Holmes over Sebastian. And oh boy, did that stir some feelings in Moran.

Finally, after days being away, Jim returned back to the flat and Seb was right there, channel surfing again. His face was bruised this time with fresh cuts. Since Jim had been away, the only thing Seb could do was to find jobs. And fights. He loved to pick on fights.

" Don't you look dashing." Jim commented and walked to the living room as well. As if he'd get away with just being himself. Sebastian remained quiet. His finger was starting get tired from all the channel changing. Not that he'd let Jim know this.

" Oh? Are you angry at me?"

Sebastian heard Jim shuffle about and sat down next to him. God, that prat was actually grinning. " Oh dear. You're actually angry at me." Hell, there was a hint of amusement his tone. Sebastian gritted his teeth together and stayed silent. Oh how much he hated Jim right now.

" Seb. Sebbyy." Jim cooed and trailed his finger on Sebastian's chest. He flinched. Bloody bruises. " Come ooonn." Jim whined like a little child in Seb's ear and placed his head on his shoulder. Once again Sebastian flinched.

" What?" He asked gruffly and annoyed.

" How mad are you with me?"

" Does it matter?"

" Yes."

Sebastian narrowed his eyes to the tv. " Furious."

" Would my cupcakes change your mind?"

Oh lord. Not only Jim was a criminal mastermind, but he was actually a great cook too. Seb had noticed how addicted he'd become of Jim's creme brulee. Not to mentioning he looked sexy with an apron. Or with just an apron. Sometimes Jim liked to cook naked. " No, it wouldn't change my mind, Boss." Seb's jaw clenched and he tried hard not to look at Jim. That would only give him more pleasure knowing that Seb was caving in.

" But did you like when I broke in to the Tower of London? I did all for you."

" No you didn't"

" Alright, I didn't, but you know loo-oved it." Jim told with a sing-a-song voice. Damn it, that prat was right. Of course he was proud of Jim. No one else could do that. Not like Jim could. Not with style.

" You could've bloody told me what you were up to." Sebastian muttered.

Jim didn't say anything. He just stared Sebastian while he tried very hard to keep his eyes on the tv. " Go away."

" No."

There was a moment of silence before Jim spoke again.

" I have an idea."

" I don't care."

" It includes cupcakes."

**Author's Note:**

> Oh god I don't even know.


End file.
